


Unwell

by hannahindie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Gen, Implied Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lucifer - Freeform, Reader Insert, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, han writes the thing, spn fanfic, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 04:56:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16968090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahindie/pseuds/hannahindie
Summary: Sam is having a hard time dealing with the aftermath from the wall in his mind breaking. Not wanting to bother Dean and the reader, he tries to handle the hallucinations on his own.





	Unwell

**Author's Note:**

> Over the past few months of reading/writing fan fiction, I’ve noticed a lot of fics dedicated to shipping Sam and Lucifer. This has always bothered me, because despite severely glossing over what happened to Sam in the cage, it has been made pretty obvious that Lucifer most definitely raped/assaulted Sam the entire time he was there. It has always frustrated me that they ignore this with Sam, and I think the show and the fandom overlook it because it’s squicky. It is squicky, but I feel like that‘s why we have to pay attention to it. I love Mark Pellegrino’s portrayal of Lucifer. I like the character. But I like the character because they portray him as being terrible and beautiful, and easy to fall in love with. He’s not misunderstood or a precious bean. Anyway, this is my take on what happened with Sam after the wall broke. If you’re into Samifer, that’s your choice, but you might want to skip over this because it’s not going to support your ship at all.

Sam was exhausted. It wasn’t the exhaustion of staying up late too many nights in a row, or the almost comfortable ache in his bones after a hunt. Those he could deal with, he could pretend to function.

But Sam had been awake for five days.

There had been a brief moment of reprieve when he’d felt his eyelids slip shut and nothing but silent darkness greeted him. He couldn’t say how long he stayed that way; it could have been five minutes or five hours. He would have begun to lose all concept of time if Dean wasn’t around to remind him. Regardless, it had not lasted nearly long enough before Sam had jerked awake, silent screams locked in his chest. 

Although Sam went through the motions, he knew that his act was a dry rotted facade at best. He was sure that Dean was beginning to notice. He had begun to lose weight and his reaction time was slow. Y/N had nearly been killed when Sam had completely missed the werewolf he was trying to shoot. He’d known that Dean had been furious, had wanted to demand what the hell was wrong with him, but he’d only glared at him with tight lipped disappointment after he’d taken care of the job himself. Y/N told him that it was okay, but he could see the fear in her eyes when she looked at him.

Sam sat alone on the edge of his bed, his fingers running gently over the stitches still in his hand. The wound was an angry red around the edges, aggravated by his constant pressing. So far, it had been the only reliable way to keep Lucifer at bay; the pain would snap him back to reality pretty quickly. Lately, though, it was taking longer and longer for it to work. If Sam even tried to close his eyes, there he was. Lucifer had even said that was his plan, because how long could a person go without sleep? Sam was afraid that he might be getting close to the end of that time frame. He’d looked it up, and though scientifically speaking it wasn’t completely proven, eleven days seemed to be the consensus. He didn’t think he had eleven days in him.

He looked down at his shaking hands, his thumb resting softly on the deepest point of the cut, and sighed. This wasn’t a solution. Every bit of him ached for a better option, and the logical part of his brain said there had to be another way, but he was tired. So tired. He was tired of looking, of fighting, and especially of trying to defend his actions when the only real reason he had was that an invisible man was making his life a living hell. Dean might believe him, Y/N too, but he couldn’t risk it. He’d rather they be angry at him than think he was crazy. Then again, that’s exactly what he was, right? He was crazy. Only crazy people saw things no one else could see.

Dean and Y/N had left him behind to research at the local library. Normally Dean would have insisted that Sam go, but today Dean had said that it was his turn to stare at boring, dusty books, and that Sam should take a break. It wasn’t convincing, but Sam didn’t argue. In fact, he’d barely acknowledged what his brother was saying. He’d heard Y/N ask him something, but he’d only grunted in response and laid down. When the door clicked shut behind them, Sam had rolled over and stared at the ceiling, his thumb pressed against his palm.

Sam jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. Y/N was standing next to him and his brows furrowed in concentration. When had the door opened? He glanced towards the door as he tried to remember the sound of it opening, but if the memory was there, it had already begun to fade.

“Where’s Dean?” His voice was raspy and he realized how dry his throat was.

“He’s still at the library.” Y/N sat down on the bed next to Sam and put a hand on his knee. “Are you okay, Sam? You’ve been…off.”

Sam shrugged, “Yea, I’m fine. Just umm…just a little tired.” His eyes met Y/N’s and it took everything he had not to collapse into her. “Why didn’t Dean come back with you?”

Y/N reached up and pushed a few rogue strands of hair from Sam’s forehead, “I told him not to. He’s frustrated, and when he’s frustrated, he doesn’t let you talk. It’s because he worries, you know. But that doesn’t really help, does it?”

Sam shook his head, “No, it doesn’t…”

“You haven’t been sleeping. What’s going on?”

Sam took a shaky breath, “N-nothing. I just haven’t really felt all that great, it’s been hard to fall asleep.” He looked up at her and tilted his head, “I didn’t think you noticed.”

Y/N smiled, “Of course I noticed. So has Dean, but we didn’t want to force it out of you. It’s not like the Winchesters are known for sharing their feelings, and especially if they feel like they’re being interrogated.” She rubbed lazy circles against his knee as they sat silently for a moment. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Sam shook his head, “I…I don’t think so. I wish you could but I think I have to deal with this on my own.”

Y/N’s hand moved slowly from his knee to his thigh and Sam drew in a sharp breath. He looked at Y/N with wide eyes, “What are you doing?”

Y/N stood and pushed his knees apart with her own, then stepped between his now parted legs. She draped her arms over his shoulders and smiled at him, “What I should have done months ago.” She dipped down and captured his lips with hers, gentle and soft as they moved against his. Sam closed his eyes and let her take control, happily surprised that she felt the same way he did. She fit against him perfectly, and he groaned into her when she gently nipped at his bottom lip before pulling back.

“Is this helping?” she whispered. Sam genuinely smiled for the first time in what felt like ages and leaned his forehead against hers.

“It is helping.” He kissed her, then moved back so he could look at her. He ran his thumb along her jaw and for a moment, forgot what had been wrong in the first place. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. You’re kind and smart, and funny. You’re perfect.”

Y/N laughed, “You sure know how to flatter a girl.” She ran her hands across his broad shoulders, then slid slowly down to his chest. She leaned in and planted gentle kisses along his neck, nipping just enough to leave little marks as she traveled down. Sam sighed as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to give her better access to the sensitive skin at his pulse point. Y/N slowly moved downward until she was kneeling in front of him and Sam heard the distinct sound of his belt buckle clinking. He quickly looked at her, and she smiled up at him. “Is this okay?” she asked quietly, her hand gently tracing the outline of his hard length through his jeans.

“Yea…it’s okay. Are you sure you want to?” He moaned as she palmed him harder through the denim, her actions silently confirming that she did. Sam’s head dropped back as he felt her unbutton his jeans and freed him from the confines of his boxers and jeans. “Y/N…you feel amazing…”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” Sam’s eyes flew open and he looked down to see Lucifer staring up at him where Y/N had been just moments before. Sam threw himself backwards as he awkwardly tried to tuck himself away while getting as far away from Lucifer as he could.

“Fuck! No, no no no…what the fuck?!” Sam pushed himself as far into the corner of the bed as he could, his back against the wall and his arms wrapped around his knees.

Lucifer looked at him and pouted, still on his knees in the floor, “Is that any kind of way to treat your ol’ bunkmate, Sammy boy?” He jumped up and sat on the edge of the table, eyeing Sam mischievously. “Didja miss me? It’s been, oh…what? A few hours? It felt like days.” He tilted his head and frowned, “I don’t understand what’s wrong. You seemed to be enjoying yourself a minute ago.”

“Get the hell out of here.” Sam had hoped it would have come out louder and stronger, but instead the demand came out more like a whimper. He pulled his knees tighter against his chest and squeezed his eyes shut. “You aren’t real, you’re not here…I’m not in Hell, you are…”

Lucifer laughed, “Oh, Sammy. Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. I’m real, sweetheart. As real as I can get.” He jumped down from the table and walked over to Dean’s bed where he sat down facing Sam. “I can promise you, I’m not the only one in Hell. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but…” He leaned forward, “You’re not exactly in Kansas anymore!” He sing-songed, then immediately gasped and covered his mouth with his hand. “Kansas….awww, I guess Kansas is kind of like Hell too. My mistake, handsome.” 

He leaned back on his hands and stared at Sam, who had begun to desperately press the cut on his palm. Lucifer rolled his eyes, “Seriously? Still with that? I swear to my Father, the pointless things people think will help. It’s not gonna work, Samuel! Not. Gonna. Work!” He practically shouted, and Sam flinched as he pushed harder against his palm, so much so that blood began to trickle down his wrist.

Lucifer sighed, then stood and moved over to Sam’s bed and reached out to pat Sam’s foot. He jerked back further into himself, the usually giant man small and vulnerable looking as he curled up into the corner. “Do you remember when we were in the cage together? All those intimate moments that we had, the quiet time amidst all the torture when Michael would leave us alone and it was just us? I mean, I know I was doing the torturing and you just had to take it like a little bitch, but it was so nice to take a break and just…snuggle. You bring out the gentler side of me, Samuel. It’s embarrassing to admit, but it’s true.” Lucifer stood and walked over to the mini fridge.

“What I’m saying is, _it hurts my feelings_ when you push me away. It really _chaps my ass.”_ He grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge and flicked the cap off of it. It clattered as it bounced across the table and hit the floor, causing Sam to flinch again.  “Have you told Dean about our little fling? Have you given him all the gory details about our illicit love affair? I bet you haven’t. I think he’d be proud of you for exploring your sexuality, and pushing boundaries on what you are willing to do. Well, I pushed the boundaries. But I think you liked it, Sammy.”

He walked back to Sam and held the beer out. “Take it.” Sam shook his head as he bit down on his bottom lip, his chin quivering. “I said… _take it_.” Lucifer grabbed Sam by the hair and shoved the bottle hard against Sam’s lips, tilting it so that he was forced to drink the beer spilling from it. “Memories, huh? If I weren’t real, could I make you do that? I think we know the answer…and the last time I told you to take it, it ended very similar to this…although it was much more fun than a beer bottle.” He winked, then threw the bottle against the wall. The glass shattered violently, and the amber liquid splattered the yellowing wallpaper.

“Why…why are you doing this?” Sam whispered as he looked up at Lucifer.

Lucifer looked over his shoulder at Sam and smiled, the action dangerous and sharp. “Why am I doing this? _Why am I doing this?_ ” He climbed onto the bed, forcing Sam’s legs down as he straddled him and caged him in with his arms. Sam pushed as hard as he could against the fallen angel, just to have his arms pinned above his head. Lucifer’s one hand grasped his wrists tightly as the other gently stroked down the side of his face. Sam flinched away from his touch and Lucifer clucked his tongue.

“You wound me, Sam.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against the shell of Sam’s ear, “I’m doing this because _you_ are the reason I was thrown back into the cage. You were supposed to be my ticket out. I would have done anything for you, I could have given you Jess back if you’d just asked. But no, instead you fought me and you threw me back in that cage, and I had to deal with my absolute asshat of a brother. And why? All because you saw that stupid car with all your pathetic human memories and it made you feel _feelings_.”

Sam’s head dropped and Lucifer immediately grabbed him by the hair and jerked his head back so that they were looking at each other. Lucifer leaned his forehead against Sam’s and closed his eyes. “The one pleasant memory I have is destroying you over and over in that cage. Taking you every way I could, removing your choices, _making you mine_. Just thinking about it gets me worked up.” He released Sam’s hair and sat back on his haunches as he stared at him.

“You asked why I’m doing this and the answer is simple; you left me in the cage to rot, and now it’s my turn to destroy every waking moment of your life. I’ll find ways to make Dean not trust you, Y/N too. They will leave you, and it’ll just be me and you. Doesn’t that sound like a blast, Sammy?”

Sam sat quietly for a moment, his head down and chest heaving. He slowly looked up and narrowed his eyes. “No.” The answer was short and to the point. The vehemence behind it surprised Lucifer.

“What did you say?”

“I said _no_.” Sam jammed his thumb as hard as he could into his palm and had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming. He drove it in, wiggling and twisting against the stitches until they popped and fresh blood poured from the now open wound. He opened his eyes to an empty room and a sob escaped him. He was finally alone. He scrambled from the bed and into the bathroom where he stared into the mirror, red rimmed eyes staring back at him.

“He’s gone…he’s gone, I’m by myself and he’s gone.”He repeated the phrase like a mantra, as if the more he said it, the more true it became. His gaze slipped down to where his hands grasped the cool porcelain, his knuckles white.

_“You might not see me, but I’m here. Oh, I’m here Sammy boy, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”_

Sam cringed as the voice invaded his head, his grip tightening on the sink as he squeezed his eyes shut. “No, you’re not real. You’re in my head.”

_“Look up and tell me if I’m just in your head.”_

Sam took a deep breath and looked back in the mirror. Lucifer was standing behind him, his chin resting on Sam’s shoulder and his arms around his waist.

_“See? You can’t ditch me like a date on prom night. You’re stuck with me, Sammy. There is nothing you can do to make this stop.”_

“This isn’t real. This isn’t REAL!” Sam shouted as he punched the mirror. His reflection shattered, and glass rained down across the bathroom floor. Sam took in a shaky breath, unaware of the deep cut across his knuckles, and stared at the large shards of mirror littering the sink. “I can make it stop. I can make you go away,” he whispered as he picked up a large sliver of glass. Lucifer waved at him from the jagged piece, a wide smile plastered across his face. “I can make you go away…”

Sam held the sharp glass against his wrist, the tip dimpling the skin as he pressed down. Another sob escaped him as he pulled upward and cut deep into his arm. Blinding, fiery pain consumed his forearm, and as he stared at the damage, the reflection in the glass changed. Lucifer was gone. In his place were Dean and Y/N, their smiles wide as they laughed at something Dean said.

He cried out and threw the shard into the sink then sunk down on the edge of the tub. He heard the motel room door slam shut.

“Sam? Sammy?!” Dean rushed into the bathroom and found him, tears pouring down his face and blood dripping from his arm in torrents. “What did you do?” Dean dropped to his knees and gently grasped Sam’s arm, “Jesus, this is deep. Sammy, what happened?”

“I…I messed up Dean. I really messed up.” Y/N stopped suddenly in the doorway, her eyes wide as she took in the scene in front of her.

“Sam?”

“Y/N, get me a towel. This needs stitches, but we have to get this bleeding stopped.” Y/N kept staring, her eyes trained on Sam’s arm. “Y/N!” Dean barked. She jerked a towel from the rack and tossed it to Dean. He wrapped it around Sam’s arm and twisted it as tightly as he could. “Look at me, Sammy. How did you mess up?”

Sam looked up at him slowly, his eyes brimming with tears. “I should have….I should have told you…”

Dean bit his lip as he tried to keep from snapping at Sam. As much as he didn’t want to show it, he was terrified. “Should have told me what? You can tell me now, I won’t be mad.”

“I’ve been seeing Lucifer.” His response was quiet, so quiet that Dean almost didn’t hear him.

“You’ve been seeing Lucifer? Since when?”

“Since the wall broke…”

“Why didn’t you tell us, man? You’ve been seeing him this entire time?” Sam nodded but remained silent. “Is he here right now?”

Sam shook his head, “He’s…he’s gone. That’s why I tried…but I couldn’t, Dean. I saw you and Y/N and I knew I couldn’t let him win. I couldn’t leave you. I’m just so tired. I’m so damn tired.” He began to slump over and Dean caught him.

“Hey, hey….I gotcha. That’s what I’m here for, to take care of my pain in the ass little brother. We’ll fix it, Sammy. I’ll fix it.” He lifted Sam from the tub and struggled to get him through the bathroom door and to the bed. Sam sat on the edge of it, his head lolling against his chest. “Y/N, can you please hold him up? He’s going to fall on his face.” Y/N sat down and leaned Sam into her, her arm around his waist.

He looked up at her, his eyes glassy,”I’m sorry, Y/N.”

She smoothed the hair from his face and smiled gently, “You don’t have to apologize. I wish you had told me though…maybe I could have helped you.”

“You and Dean have enough problems, I didn’t want you to have to worry. I thought…I thought I could handle it.” He grimaced as Dean began to sew the cut and Y/N cupped his cheek.

“Look at me, don’t worry about what Dean is doing. Just look at me.” Sam flinched away from her and Y/N frowned. “What is it?”

Sam dropped his head, “He pretended to be you.”

“What?”

“I thought…I thought he was you. He…tricked me into…” Sam trailed off, and Dean looked up at him, awkward panic on his face. Y/N shook her head, a silent warning to Dean to stay quiet. “How do I know it’s actually you?”

Y/N wanted nothing more than to hold him, but after his sudden confession, didn’t want to scare him anymore than he already was. Instead, she carefully laced her fingers through his, “I will never trick you, Sam. I’m not going to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m here when you’re ready, okay?” He nodded, and started to slump over again. Dean caught him, and as gently as he could, shifted him to where he was lying fully on the bed.

“Rest, Sammy. We’ll be right here. Just sleep.” Dean wasn’t sure that was the best plan after the amount of blood he lost, but judging by how he looked, not sleeping might just kill him instead. As he watched Sam’s eyes slip shut and his breathing slow, he carefully rebandaged Sam’s hand and made a mental note to ask him about that later. He had no idea how to help him, but Dean was determined to destroy Lucifer regardless of what it would take.

And for the first time in five days, Sam slept.


End file.
